


i won't abandon you

by EmpathyGalore



Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, i have fallen in love with john doe, this'll be fun to write boyes, weeeeew
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-02 20:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14552535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpathyGalore/pseuds/EmpathyGalore
Summary: John Doe. What a name. What a guy, really. That name and that guy was the only thing pulsing through Bruce Wayne’s thoughts day in and day out. It was crazy, he sure felt like he was going crazy.





	1. chapter one

_ “Bruce, you came!” _

 

John Doe. What a name. What a guy, really. That name and that guy was the only thing pulsing through Bruce Wayne’s thoughts day in and day out. It was crazy, he sure felt like he was going crazy. Guilt ate his insides until he eventually discovered that he hadn’t had an appetite for weeks. It had been around three weeks since John Doe was captured and put back in Arkham Asylum. 

 

_ “After everything we’ve been through together… This is how it ends?” _

 

The scene kept replaying in his mind, over and over again. Chasing behind John until the GCPD showed up in front of him and shot his chest with a stun gun. Until he saw John fall and watch his trust with him crumble in front of his own eyes. John was never the bad guy, nor was Joker, his alter ego-esque “hero” name. He was just.. troubled. Misguided. Misunderstood. He could-- he WOULD change him.

 

_ “You want me to go back to the beginning? _

_ To Arkham? Where it all started?” _

 

Bruce was going to help him, he knew this solid in his mind. If he gave him a positive shoulder to lean on, positive unlike the twisted views that Harley Quinn tried to shove down this throat, John could make it out okay. He just needs some help, a little push, and some time in Arkham would help him. He wouldn’t be in there forever, even if they tried to keep in locked up forever, Bruce wasn’t going to allow it. After he starts to show improvement, Bruce was going to get him out-- pay him out even, if needed.

 

_ “I’ve come so far since then, Batman. Because of you.  _

_ I believed in you, Batman. Like I never believed in anything.” _

 

Every passing day made the pill harder to swallow. Most days, Bruce sat up late at night and thought about everything in great detail. At the tone of his voice when he realized that he wasn’t going to intervene and stop them from taking him away. The pain in his voice as he lunged and plunged the knife up into one of the GCPD officer’s neck, slashing the others throat, intensely and repetitively stabbing the last one and throwing him over the railing.  It  _ killed  _ him. It killed him to see John break and lash out. To see him laugh uncontrollably as he attempted to kill Bruce over and over again. And when he had that speech in the control room… it was a stab in everywhere Bruce could feel emotion. He felt something towards John that he’s never felt before. The constant need to protect him, to guide him, to re-teach him right from wrong. Sure, he felt the need to protect the city, to protect innocents, but this was different. This was love.

 

“ _ And it was all a lie!” _

 

\--

 

“No!” Bruce sat up. His vision wavered for a second as he took everything in around him, his heart beating profoundly. He looked at the sweat soaked sheets on top of him, the crackle of the fireplace, the dewy light from the sun rising. He was in his room. It was morning. “Fucking nightmare,” Bruce whispered hoarsely to himself, running his left hand through his hair- which was also soaked with sweat. Peeling off the sheets from his body, he stood up from his bed with an off balance shift of his legs. They felt heavy and weak at the same time. “I need to shower.” 

Trailing towards the dresser, he heard a knock at his door. His mind got the best of him for a moment, and his first instinct was fear, until reality set in. “Alf-” He tried to speak, but his voice cracked. Clearly his throat, he tried again. “Alfred?” “Would you like a bacon omelette or Belgium waffles?” Bruce blinked a couple of times. “Uh, surprise me?” After replying, he heard footsteps decent away from the door. Good. He was still a bit shaken up from the nightmare, and knew that Alfred would catch onto it quick. Opening his dresser, he grabbed his outfit for the day and headed for the shower. Today he figured that it was time to do what he had been putting off.

 

Today he was going to pay John Doe a visit.

 

-

 

The first thing he did as he stepped into the shower was turn the water nearly ice cold. He seethed a bit at first, but soon relaxed his body and leaned it against the wall of the shower. Just what was he going to say? Do? He thought about the last moments that he saw John once again, then shook them out of his head. The more he thought about those moments, the more stressed he became to even think about seeing John… and why was he so goddamned stressed?  _ I can make this right.  _ The self-assurance buzzed through his head as he straightened himself up. His eyes fixated themselves on the reflection of himself in the nozzle on the faucet. Cuts, bruises, markings-- from head to fucking toe. No wonder Alfred always stayed so worried. He was both a bully beating up a kid and the kid himself. 

 

Knowing that the longer he stayed in the shower the longer he would drag his feet, he quickly washed up and stepped out, knotting a towel around his waist. He needed to hurry, how long had he spent in the shower? He grabbed the watch sitting on the edge of the sink that he had taken off before showering.  _ 9:34.  _ Visitation started at 10 A.M. Buckling the watch back onto his wrist, he glanced at himself in the mirror. The cold water had turned his skin a flushed pink, especially on his shoulders and face. Besides that, his hair was a tangled mess with his bangs thrown in front of his eyes. He rummaged through his cabinet that was messily filled with hair supplies, pulling out a nearly empty hair gel container and a sleek black comb. Massaging the gel into his hair, he briefly combed everything backwards. His “beauty routine” was pretty basic, which was something he didn’t get from his father. He could remember his father’s friends calling Thomas a sociopath because of how OCD he was with his skin. He could remember countless scrubs, masks, and toners in the same cabinet- none of which was his mother’s. Bruce glanced back up in the mirror, recognizing his father’s sharp bone structure in his own face. He quickly looked back down, sighing gently. 

 

“You aren’t your father, you know.” Bruce turned around, seeing Alfred standing at the bathroom door. Weird, he didn’t even hear it open. “How did you know I was even thinking about him?” He said, crossing his arms and leaning against the sink. “I could tell. When you get in that headspace, it’s not hard to see what you’re thinking about.” “You calling me an open book?” “Are you saying that you aren’t open with me?” Alfred said almost smugly, raising an eyebrow. Bruce smirked. “You do know me well. Is breakfast ready?” “Yes. That’s what I came up to tell you. I’ll let you get dressed now,” Alfred said and turned around, but Bruce stopped him. “Hey, wait.” He laid a hand on Alfred’s shoulder, who in response glanced up at him. “Al, I’m really not like my dad?” 

 

Alfred chose to stand in silence for a moment before replying. “You most certainly aren't. Of course, you share similarities, but you and your father are not in the same stitch.”  _ Same stitch.  _ Bruce took a step back, his eyes widening. Alfred concerningly reached out for him. “Bruce, are you okay?” “Yeah, yeah, I’m.. I’m fine.”  _ You and me, we’re two threads in the same stitch!  _ “Are you su-” “Alfred, I’m good. Can you, uh, leave? Please? I need to get dressed.” Hesitating, Alfred lingered, but only for a moment. He then gave Bruce a nod and closed the door behind him. 

 

Same stitch, same stitch, same stitch. Bruce glanced towards the watch on his wrist again. 9:45. He swallowed hard. The anxiety that started in his stomach and rose up was getting worse. He needed to do this, though. Nothing was going to stop him. Not even the sudden aggressive dizziness that flooded his head. Quickly throwing on the suit he picked out, he walked out of the bathroom and back into his bedroom. Once he made his way over to his bed, he sat down, reached under the bed, and pulled out a box. Staring at it for just a moment, he removed and item and tucked it inside of his inner suit pocket. It was a gift, for John of course. Something he had held onto for quite some time now. Now that he was running extremely short on time, everything he did was fast paced. Putting on his shoes and tying them, re-checking his hair, tucking in his undershirt. He wanted to look his absolute best, despite going inside of a mental institution. 

 

Finally, he rushed out of his room and into the living room of the mansion, grabbing his car keys. As he was about to stroll to the front door, once again Alfred stopped him. “What about breakfast?” Bruce smiled sorrily. “No time. I’m really running late.” “You look a mess, Bruce.” That took him off guard. Even though he rushed, he thought he looked good. Alfred sensed the confusion. “Your tie isn’t even tied, it’s just wrapped around your neck loosely.” Bruce looked down. Ooooooooh, his tieeeee. Oops, he did completely forget about that. He went to rushingly tie it, but Alfred swatted his hands away, tying it at his own personal pace, which was much slower than Bruce was wanting. 

“I know you’re going to go see John.” Alfred spoke, almost drawing out every word. Bruce cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not going to stop you. I know how much he means to you, and I know how much you mean to him. If I’m being honest, he has probably been dreaming of your visit since he arrived there.” Bruce readjusted his stance. “Right,” was all he said in response. Alfred finished tying and slid the knot up, but still held onto the tie as he looked up at Bruce, almost choking him a little. “Bruce.” Alfred said, his eyes stern. “Look at me.” Slowly, Bruce’s gaze lowered and matched his. “You are the strongest person I know, but love can make even the strongest weak.” Bruce’s breath hitched, and he took a step back. “I don’t-” Alfred tugged the tie again. “I don’t care who you love, male or female. I really don’t. All I care about is you not doing something stupid and getting yourself in trouble.” 

 

Silence fell over the two for a few short moments, and Al let go of his tie, finally. “John looks up to you more than he even looked up to Harley. Do not let that slip your mind. And please, for the love of everything,  _ do not help John escape again. _ ” Bruce exhaled, loosening his tie just a smidge. He grasped for words in his brain that would not form. “...Thanks,” was all he muttered out, turning on his heels and walking towards and out the door.

 

“I mean it,” he heard Al say, just seconds before the door clicked shut behind him. 


	2. chapter one

For a solid five minutes, Bruce sat in quiet with his car in park. His eyes unfocused-ly watched the traffic zoom by him, gripping the steering wheel in front of him in complete anticipation. His car was running (and wasting gas) but he didn’t care. He wasn’t taking the fancy, expensive Batmobile/sportsy mobile, instead he was taking a-less-expensive-non-batsy-but-still-pretty-damn-expensive-car. He knew that if he took his regular car, he would get way more attention than he was willing to welcome today. Sure, the public wasn’t that bad and didn’t bother him as much anymore as it used to growing up, but when his mind was racing a million miles an hour, the thought of being crowded by a large body of people was enough to make his stomach flop.

 

As his hands traced the outline of the steering wheel, he sighed contently in thought. Nothing,  _ nothing  _ in his life had made him feel more excited and sickeningly anxious than visiting John. Forget nothing,  _ no one _ . This included his flings with Selina, never during any of them did he ever feel this. Sure, the hookups were fun. And, sure, there was some sparks there. He wouldn’t deny it. But at the end of the day, none of it was fulfilling. It was like filling up on desserts and completely missing out on the four course meal right in front of you.

 

And  _ oh God,  _ was John a fulfilling meal.

 

John.

 

Right.

 

At long last, he placed his hand on the car’s stick shift and pulled out of the mansion’s driveway. Pressing the play button on the car’s radio, classical music filled the entire car. Bruce almost took his eyes off of the road to hold in his laughter. The last person to use the car before him was Al, and that was quite obvious. Smashing the skip button a few times, eventually his own music came on. He listened to a little bit of everything _ — _ some rock here, some indie there, even some heavy metal _ — _ and right now he felt like he needed a little bit of everything. Or a lot of anything, really. A quiet car ride at that moment made death seem more desirable. As his tunes continued to distract his thoughts, he found the car ride to be easier than he expected.

 

Pulling up to Arkham’s parking lot, he scanned the building in a sort of reminiscent sort of way, almost being overcome with nostalgia. The outside had almost a haunting demeanor about it, with it’s cracking, grey exterior and smokey white sky above it. The chimney took about a quarter space of the entire roof, and it spewed dark gray smoke that thinned and thinned as it came out until it disintegrated nearly completely. 

Focused on the sky, he felt his front wheels trample over a speed bump. The slight jerk forward was enough to pull him completely back into reality. He continued to drive forward until he turned and parked his car into an open parking spot, albeit a bit too close to a parking block in front of the car, but that was really the last thing on Bruce’s mind.

Quickly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out into the hot sun. He regretted then, as he often does in Gotham’s heated summer weather, wearing a tuxedo. Of course, he would have never chosen something else to wear, but still. The weather was killer, nothing short of a hundred degrees. At least, that’s what to Bruce it felt like. In reality, it was probably around the upper eighties _ — _ still extremely hot for Gotham _ — _ but the anxiety added a couple digits to his overall body heat. Lingeringly, he nearly waddled up to the doors of the Asylum. Pulling the handle, he discovered it to be locked. Ah, so this must be a pull do _ —  _

 

“Yes?” A scratchy female voice bellowed from a speaker drilled into the side of the door that Bruce was just now seeing. He straightened himself up, also realizing that there was a camera present. “Hi, yes. I’m Bruce Wayne, I’m here for visitation.” Speaking as clearly as he possibly could, he attempted to push all of the emotions clouding his thoughts completely down. The voice mumbled something inaudibly with a nasty tone, then returned to clearly speaking out of the speaker. “Of course. Come in and go to the front desk, please. It’s a pleasure,  _ Mr. Wayne _ .” Immediately, a  _ click  _ followed and the door swung open with more force than Bruce was expecting. The lady’s voice had a tinge of annoyance in it, especially towards the end where she seemed to sound out every syllable. He stepped through, immediately being greeted with a refreshing swirl of crisp, cold AC air (which he mentally thanked everyone in the building for having AC) and walked ahead.

Once he approached the front desk, he put on a casual smile for the receptionist, to which returned it.”Bruce Wayne, the man himself. How remarkable it is to see you here! Especially, considering…” Her voice trailed off and never found the way back to her throat. A slim gleam of remorse reflected in her smile. Whether it was fake or not, Bruce couldn’t tell. “Let’s just say I’m glad you’re here on your own terms this time. Anywho, who are you here to visit?” She spoke with such chipper in her voice that Bruce noticed the gleam was gone. He cleared his throat. “John Doe.”

Immediately, the smile dropped, and she fell stiff. Bruce’s heart rate began to quicken as he desperately read her face, beginning to panic. He felt his heart instantly drop into the pit of his stomach. Had something happened? Was John hurt?  _ Did he hurt someone else?  _ Bruce was damn near close to interrogating, but the receptionist finally spoke up quietly, furiously typing away at her keyboard. Her eyes met Bruce’s, and reading his expression, she chose her words carefully. “Mr. Doe just hasn’t had any visitors since he’s become our patient again is all.” Bruce leaned his weight slightly against the counter, sighing in relief. After a few seconds of weird silence and more aggressive typing, she withdrew her hands from her keyboard and looked up at Bruce. “Alrighty! You’re all set. One of our guards, Sean, will escort you to John’s room and will be guarding your visit,” The chipper had returned to her voice. Out of absolutely nowhere, who Bruce presumed to be ‘Sean’ appeared right behind him, almost  _ too  _ close for comfort. 

“Ooookay,” He simply said, and looked  _ up  _ (yes,  _ up _ , for this Sean fellow was at least a foot taller than him and at the minimum 200 pounds heavier) at Sean, giving a weak smile. “Shall we?” Bruce suggested, deepening his voice as deep as he could get it to assert dominance. Sean only rolled his eyes and began walking, and the two of them started to head off down a long, long,  _ long  _ hallway filled with silver metal doors and stained white walls. If Bruce was sure of something, it was that this was going to be the longest walk of his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so! welcome back!  
> sorry that this one is kinda shorter than the other, but only by like ~900 words or so
> 
> i hope everyone reading is enjoying this fanfic so far, i'm having an incredibly fun time writing it, that's for sure
> 
> the next chapter is when bruce and john will actually meet and interact, i'm really sorry for drawing that out- i just have a knack for really going into detail about extremely small things (but that's just my style and i ain't gonna cramp it)
> 
> but yes, i promise that next chapter will be the one that everyone's actually been waiting for
> 
> as always, thanks for reading ! <3


	3. chapter three

“What’s a rich, pretty boy like you got do with a criminal like Doe?” Sean asked suddenly when they were about halfway to John’s room. That caught him entirely off guard, because before then the two had walked in absolute silence. Well, silent on their part. The asylum around them was filled with absolute chaos. Wails, screams, cries, and questionable unknowing sounds that made Bruce incredibly happy to not know the source of. Sean’s question brought him back in time to when Harley asked him nearly the same question.  _ What do you want with a loss soul like John? _

 

“I know him,” Bruce replied. “Not what I asked.” Sean snapped back quickly. “I  _ know  _ you know him. You’re all he talks about-” Bruce felt his stomach soar, but kept his calm attitude intact. “-so there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind here that has talked to John  _ once  _ that you know John Doe. Now,  _ what I asked  _ was: what do you got to do with him. What’s your motive. Your intentions. In other words,  _ why the fuck are you here? _ ” 

 

Bruce swallowed. At that exact moment, he realized the unwelcomed aura that was surrounding him, directed from what seemed to feel like every living thing in the building. Sean stopped walking, and so Bruce had no choice but to answer his question.  _ Why does it matter to you _ was what he wanted to say oh so badly, but he chose his words wisely. 

 

“I just want to visit John.” 

 

Sean scoffed.

 

“And that’s it? Just a friendly, wholesome visit from Bruce Wayne, the man that got him locked up?” 

 

Bruce’s eyes widened at that, but Sean didn't notice because he was too occupied looking up at the ceiling in thought. Did he mean-

 

“Or was that Batman?” He said into the air with question. “Shit, hard to remember. You two are the only things the news talks about anymore, or anyone talks about anymore. Hard  _ not  _ to get you two mixed up.” 

 

Bruce relaxed. “Yes. Just a visit.” He couldn’t hold the question back any longer that was chewing at his subconscious. “Why are you so interested in my visit?” 

 

Sean let out a deep, husky chuckle at that, shoving Bruce’s shoulders playfully with an undertone of aggression. “You’re Bruce motherfuckin’ Wayne! You’re in a mental asylum to see some maniac that’s obsessed with you! Who wouldn’t have questions?” 

Well, he had a point there. Bruce only responded with a light laugh. Sean blinked a couple of times, giving Bruce a half judgemental look. 

 

A few seconds passed.

 

Bruce refused to look Sean in the eyes until the last possible second. “Can we… continue walking? Please?” Sean blinked again. “You’re weird, Wayne. Maybe you visiting this place ain’t so odd.” With that, he picked up his pace.

 

Finally, Sean stopped in front of a door that stood out entirely from every other door that they had passed. It was painted a vibrant lime green, with the word ‘Joker!’ written in black across the top, complete with a ‘:D’ emoticon drawn inside of the O. Bruce smiled purely, which enticed another weird look from Sean.

 

All was quiet from behind the door. “Ey, Doe.” Sean said, and the pair waited.

Silence.

 

 _Bang. Bang._ Sean pounded one of his large hands against the metal door.

 

Silence.

 

_ Bang. Bang. _

 

Silence, again.

 

_ Bang.  _ “John, you have a visitor.”  _ Bang.  _

 

Not a sound was heard from the other side. Bruce was beginning to worry that there was no one in the room.

 

“It’s Bruce Way-”

 

**WHAM** . 

 

A large force was thrown against the door, and right after Bruce saw a couple of skinny pale fingers protrude from under the door. Immediately, erupted a continuous string of- “Brucie! Brucie! Brucie! Brucie! Buddy, is that really you??  _ OPEN THIS DOOR _ !!” Bruce raised an eyebrow at Sean, who unlocked the door with slight hesitation. Instantly, a speedy figure of green locks and off-white clothes sprung out, panting, looking around anxiously like an addict looking for Meth. After a moment, John turned slightly, realizing that he was facing an empty hallway in the direction he was facing. Right when he turned, he locked eyes with Bruce.

 

He stared.

Bruce stared.

 

John stared back.

 

Bruce stared longer.

 

Sean looked at the both of them, confounded, then mumbled something about ‘fuck this man’ and ‘I don’t care if this gets me fired’ and strolled away, quite seriously breaking Arkham policies. But that was okay, in Bruce’s eyes at least, because  _ Bruce motherfuckin’ Wayne  _ can handle John motherfuckin’ Doe on his own. 

 

John sniffled. “Please don’t,” Bruce pleaded, but it was far too late. Waterfalls was pouring from John’s eyes, and he dramatically flung himself against Bruce’s chest. Bruce quickly looked around, spotting a singular nurse down the hall who stared at the pair completely in awe. Bruce waved weakly, and the nurse continued to stare. “I will pay you to leave,” Bruce offered, but the nurse put her hands up as to signal ‘no need’ and quickly speed walked away.

 

Now alone, Bruce awkwardly backed into John’s room with him still tightly against his chest, sobbing, and shut the door almost completely with his foot. If it shut all the way, Bruce knew that the door would lock and they’d both be stuck there. John hugged him so tightly he swore he could feel his ribs start to cave to the pressure. He sat down on the weak slab of mattress that the staff dared to call a ‘bed’ and peeled John off of him, who looked up at him.

 

“Bruuuuciiieeee.” John whined, his tears leaving wet spots on Bruce’s suit. “John. John, hey. Look,” Bruce said, awkwardly patting the boys head. “Bruce, you came! You really, actually  _ came! _ ” John spoke with such pure happiness that Bruce swore John forgot how he even got back there. He didn’t want to bring it up, so he just smiled. “Of course.” He spoke calmly, even though his chest was pounding hard. Then, he jolted up. “Ah, I have something for you.” He said, reaching inside of his tux. John perked up. “A present?” He said curiously, trying to get a peek inside of his tux. Bruce pulled out the same exact ‘Get Well Soon’ card that John had given him many moons ago. John frowned, mildly offended. “Hey, isn’t that-”

 

“Open it.” Bruce interrupted, and so he did. Inside, Bruce had put ‘to:’ in front John’s original signature, and ‘from: Bruce’ right under it, written in a nice, clean cursive script. He had also added smileys in the upper and lower closed circles of the ‘B’ and a smiley in the upper part of the ‘e’. John’s smile returned, beaming ear from ear. “Oh, I absolutely love it! Thank you, Brucie.” John said cheerfully, then slipped it inside of his pants. Bruce raised an eyebrow. 

 

“They do bedroom checks nightly,” John explained, and Bruce let out a laugh. “So you put things you don’t want to find in your drawers?” 

With a slight undertone of embarrassment, John mumbled a ‘maybe’ under his breath before standing up from the bed. “So!” He exclaimed loudly, clasping his hands together. “I have something really important to ask you.”

 

Bruce swallowed. “Yes?” There was something in the way that John’s voice dipped that made Bruce fear what the question was going to be.

 

“Can I stay the night?”

 

Bruce’s eyes trailed along the walls of the room. “Here? In this cell? Are you.. Uh, what are you asking?” 

 

John huffed, plopping back down next to Bruce. The bed framed croaked under the both of them in stress. “I mean, I want to spend the night with you. Just one,” He then lowered his voice, “in your house.” 

 

Bruce looked at him in awe, running a hand down his face. “You want me to break you out?” Adding, “Again?”

 

“Yes! Exactly. Just for a day. I just want to spend the night and then the whole day with my buddy. You can take me back tomorrow night. It doesn’t have to be illegally either, even though that’s  _ so  _ much more fun. All you have to do is tell the receptionist that you’re taking me for a day. You’re Bruce Wayne, no one’s going to try and stop you. This place is ran by lunatics more insane than the patients.” John spoke so fast in such excitement that it was almost hard to catch every word. 

 

Bruce sat in silence for a moment. It seemed like a pure idea, but he knew how John could hide things and play people, even if it wasn’t intentionally. “If I do this, and this is a big if, you aren’t going to leave my sight. No games, John. Everywhere you want to go, I’m going to accompany you.” He knew that in a mental sense, this was a terrible idea. However, he knew that it would make John happy. Plus, he’s been stuck in here for weeks. Bruce knew how shitty it felt to spend even a day in here. 

John never responded to his demands, causing Bruce to sigh. “Look, okay. Okay. Yeah,” He said finally, causing John to once again bounce up from excitement. “Gosh, I’m so happy you said yes!” He beamed, jumping around the room. Bruce laughed through his teeth, a bit nervously. “I’m.. glad you’re happy. You did hear what I said though, right?” He said, to which John continued to completely ignore, under his breath mumbling about plans he was so excited to make and places he wanted to go with Bruce. Bruce couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. 

 

“Don’t you think we should get going?” He said softly after listening to a few minutes of John’s exciting ramble. John paused mid-sentence, also freezing where he was- he was pacing the entire tiny cell and talking with his hands, of course, putting on an entertaining show unintentionally for Bruce to watch and listen to- and waved a hand apologetically. 

 

“Yeah, of course! I’m just so excited for today and tomorrow now.” He nearly whispered the last part, then skipped towards the nearly closed door, nudging it open. “Shall we?” He proposed.

 

Bruce gave one last short, brief thought about what he was about to take responsibility for. Was he sure that he wanted to be responsible for whatever antics John was going to get him into the next day and a half?

 

Yeah. Yeah, he was sure.

 

With that, he walked through the door and past John, who he unintentionally brushed briefly against. Just accidentally touching him made butterflies fill up Bruce’s stomach, but he kept his cool. The then empty hallway was filled with countless staff members now, some even aggressively shoving Bruce and John as they rushed past them, yelling random words into their radios. Bruce raised an eyebrow.

 

“What’s going on?” He asked John, who shrugged effortlessly in return. “Dunno. I think it’s around lunch time now,” John said, which threw Bruce off guard. “ _ Lunch time? _ ” He checked his watch. 11:32 PM. Holy shit, time flew. It felt like he had just gotten there. 

 

The same nurse from earlier strolled past the pair with a trolley full of various cleaning supplies, and Bruce stopped her. “What’s going on?” He asked again, this time to her. She seemed to be the only one not rushing and running around. 

 

“There was a fight in the cafeteria as far as I know,” She replied, slowing her stroll to a stop. “John, what are you doing out without a staff member looking over you?” John looked at Bruce, who returned the glance before turning his attention back on the nurse. Quickly, he read her name tag. Diana. “Listen, Diana,” He began, lowering his voice so that only she could hear it. “I’m taking John for a day. He will be under my care, and he won’t get into any trouble.” 

 

“Probably,” He heard strangely close, and turned around to see John’s head resting on Bruce’s shoulder. “No secrets.” He reminded. 

 

Bruce sighed, and the nurse couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“I am serious, though. He will be under my supervision and he will return before dinner time tomorrow night.” He tried to put on his most trustworthy voice, hoping that the nurse wouldn’t be strict. 

 

“Alright.” She said simply, beginning to push her trolley away.

 

Bruce was a bit stunned, and stuck his hand out to stop her again. “Excuse me, what? You’re.. Just gonna let me do this, that easy?” 

 

“Not my job,” She stated, then tilted her head so that she could see past Bruce and look at John. “You be a good boy, ‘kay?” She said, raising her eyebrows in an intimidating way. 

 

John threw a finger gun her way. “Oh, I will be _very_ good.” He assured, and Diana nodded.  
  
“Good. Okay, well. I’ll be taking my leave now, if you would kindly remove your arm.” Bruce stammered to find words, still incredibly taken aback, but did in fact remove his arm out of her way- which she thanked him for- and she started up again, rolling away.

 

“I’ll tell the front desk, so you don’t have to worry about that. Just get outta here before trouble finds ya!” Diana nearly shouted from a near distance without turning around. 

 

“Wow. Just.. wow. It’s that easy?” Bruce turned to John, asking. John giggled. “Normally, no. But Diana is good people.. Really, really good people. She worked with Harley,” He explained, starting to walk ahead of Bruce, spinning around to talk while pacing backwards.

 

“I never saw her,” Bruce questioned. He was sure that he had met everyone Harley worked with at least once. “She was one of the behind-the-scenes type’a gal. She never did the dirty work, just helped the dirty work be able to happen. Sean, the guard that lead you to my room, was one of those people too.”

 

Suddenly, gears began to click and make sense in his head. That’s why Sean was so full of questions, why he was so curious, why he seemed to know so much about John. “That’s nice that you have old friends here,” Was all he said, however, deciding to not bring up his interaction with Sean.

 

“Oh, no, we aren’t friends. Anything but! We just have a history is all,” He paused for a moment. “Like you and I.”

 

“Are you saying we aren’t friends?”

 

“I’m saying.. I don’t know what exactly we are, Bruce.”

 

That was awfully bold of John to state, and it made Bruce be thrown off for the hundredth time today. There was a moment of silence, a long, long moment of silence, and John spun the other way, walking forward now. 

 

“I don’t know either.” Bruce finally responded. 

 

John’s shoulders twitched, just barely noticeable, but to Bruce it stood out like a sore thumb. “We should talk about that, buddy.” He said, his voice completely monotone, and Bruce swore he could hear his voice crack in the end. 

Fuck.

 

That’s not what Bruce meant.

 

“We will, later. I promise,” He said reassuringly, approaching John and putting a hand on his shoulder.

 

John dipped, and the hand slipped off. 

 

_ Fuck _ . 

 

“Where did you park?” John asked suddenly, snapping Bruce out of his state of guilt.

 

“What?”

“Where did you park? There’s a side door right here if you parked in the main parking lot,” He said opening up the door and holding it open, turning to face Bruce now. His face was completely unreadable, and Bruce couldn’t tell what he was feeling. Usually, John was like an open book. 

 

“Uh, yeah. I parked in the main parking lot. Hey, John. Wait,” He said, walking up to John. A breeze was now coming through the door and was gently blowing his green locks around and in his face. Thanks to gel, Bruce’s hair stayed in place. 

 

“I don’t know how you took what I said, but I think you completely misunderstood my intentions. I didn’t mean that I-” John smiled softly, taking ahold of one of Bruce’s hands. 

 

The breeze wafted John’s smell of cinnamon and vanilla heavenly in Bruce’s face.

 

“I know.”

 

“What?”

 

“I know. I didn’t take it that way. I  _ know  _ what you meant. Let’s just.. Talk about it later.” 

 

Bruce blinked. “But I-”

Before Bruce could even finish his sentence, John was skipping down the sidewalk and prancing around the cars, looking at each. 

 

“Where’s the batmobile?”

 

“Didn’t take it,” Bruce stated, pulling a car starter out of his pants pocket and pressing a button with a little unlocked lock on it, creating a beeping noise to sound from the cluster of cars in front of them.

 

John quickly traced the sound down, finding Bruce’s car. “Wow! This one’s just as pretty! Can we name this one the Jokermobile?” Bruce laughed. “Sure, yeah.”

 

John dragged a hand along the glossy finish on the hood. “Niiiiice. Now I’m even more official! I love it!” He let out a cluster of giggles before opening up the passenger side door, slipping his small frail inside and buckling up. Bruce followed, in the driver’s seat. 

 

“Can we get a slushy?” Was the first thing out of John’s mouth before he even finishing buckling his seat belt. “Oo, and some popcorn. I’ve been craving popcorn so  _ bad _ , Bruce! They don’t let you have  _ anything  _ yummy in there!”

 

“Slushy, popcorn, check. Anything else on your want list?”

 

John spoke without thinking. “You.”

 

“...”   


“...”

 

“You.. youngberries! I want some youngberries. Yeah.”

 

“Youngberries?” Bruce asked quizzically. 

 

“Yeah, they’re a hybrid between three different kinds of berries and I uh, I really want some!”

 

“ _ Youngberries? _ ” 

 

“Yes! Hey it’s hot in here, lets going going, yeah? What’s this button do..”

 

John, in embarrassing panic, had just pressed the open trunk button, and it popped open with a solid  _ plomp _ .

 

“Oh, gosh! Bruce, I’m so sorry! Let me uh, I’ll go fix that!” Without another word, he unclicked his seatbelt and opened the car door, rushing out. 

 

Bruce looked in his rear view mirror and watched him.

 

About a foot away from the trunk, John was pacing around in the parking lot, very obviously talking to himself. While Bruce couldn’t make out most of what he was saying, he picked up on some things here and there when John would speak louder.

 

“You’re messing this up! … stop being so … Bruce  _ knows better! …  _ Bruce … can’t help but … calm yourself,”

 

Once Bruce saw that John was coming back, he quickly straightened himself up and put in the car key. He heard the  _ clunck  _ of the trunk closing, and John returned into the passenger seat.

 

“So,” Bruce started, a playful undertone in his voice.

 

“Later,” John said, sitting oddly perfectly still. “Talk later.”

 

“Right,” He finished, then turned the key, driving out of the lot. 

 

The car ride back to the mansion consisted of no music, no words, and a hell of a lot of John fidgeting. 

 

Bruce didn’t mind, though.

 

He was too busy thinking about how he had literally failed the only thing Alfred told him not to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly was going to finish this fic with this chapter, but then i thought about like /what if they have a couple o' date nights/ and oh man the fic must go on
> 
> thanks for reading, stay gucci


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